


Hop, Skip, and a Jump

by Keatulie



Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: Ficlet, M/M, in the universe of my previous kidfics but only really connected to them by one line, moomintroll gets some mail, t pregnancy mention, this is mostly just here for me and anyone who wants 2 read it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:40:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22652653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keatulie/pseuds/Keatulie
Comments: 5
Kudos: 26





	Hop, Skip, and a Jump

‘He never writes letters,’ Moomintroll said quietly to no-one, upon checking the postbox at the end of the path.

That was how the routine would go. After a good few months of being snuggled up for winter, once breakfast had been cleared and the dusting was to start, one of the household would amble down the garden to see if anyone who hadn’t been asleep had sent along their springtime wishes, or plans for paying a visit later in the year. But Snufkin was never one of them. He preferred to leave his brief goodbyes before departing, and before the moomins settled down to hibernate.

And yet, there they were. Inside the postbox, on the first day of spring, sat twelve total letters bearing Snufkin’s cheerful big hand.

Moomintroll’s first thought was that they were meant for different people, but flipping through them, he quickly realised that every single one had the exact same address: _Moomintroll, Moominhouse, Moominvalley._

Unmistakably for him and no one else, not even the rest of the family.

His second thought then had been imprisonment. It was hardly a stretch to believe - but no; Snufkin was far too fast and wily to stay confined for any considerable length of time, as the amount of letters stuffed into the little space suggested. He must have gotten tied up by other means.

A sudden, sharp chill struck Moomintroll’s spine, like the shock of an icicle dripping down one’s back on a warm day. He must have been injured somehow – gravely, oh it must be! Snufkin was much too stubborn to be impaired by any minor cuts or bruises otherwise. A leg injury, most likely; fractured. Lost it. That’s what he’s done, the old fool. He’s gone and lost a good leg, or an arm, or an eye, perhaps all of them at once!

Despite a sensible part of Moomintroll telling him that people with their legs, arms, and eyes gone couldn’t very well write letters, he couldn’t stop the increasingly morbid thoughts of what had befallen his dear Snufkin over winter.

Unable to bear the wait any longer, Moomintroll grabbed the latest envelope from the pile and cut open the fold with his claw. Surely the blow of whatever had happened would be softened by the reassurances of a later message. It would be far easier to work backwards with the knowledge that Snufkin was all right. He hoped.

The paper was pinched between his trembling fingers and lifted tentatively out a centimetre at a time, as though apprehensively moving a piece of furniture that one knew hid an unsavoury dust-bunny spot.

It was a small page, as Snufkin’s letters were. The bottom was torn where it had been ripped from the inside of an exercise book.

Moomintroll quickly scanned the paragraph for any glaring mention of words like “injuries”, “illness”, or perhaps even worse. But nothing stood out to him. The tone was as short and chipper as his goodbyes in the autumn, so heaving a great sigh of relief, Moomintroll threw aside the envelope and began to read.

“ _Good morning!”_ it started, which was comforting enough.

_ “I hope that you’ve slept well and haven’t had any rude awakenings. If I’m right, this letter should reach you just around the end of hibernation. I’m sorry that I can’t be here to greet you. The mountain range is well within my sight. By the time you read this I’ll be but a hop, skip, and a jump from Moominvalley, just you wait - although something tells me that we’ll be waiting on the little one to come for quite a while yet. _

_ Yours again soon, _  
_Snufkin._

_P.S. Happy Spring to you and the children. Give them my love. Don’t worry, I’ve already given yours for you_.”

Moomintroll paced aimlessly around the postbox, frantically folding and re-opening the paper, as though he expected the letters on it to press themselves into a different order and not say what he thought they did. He squeezed his eyelids shut. The words pulsed clear as anything behind them.

‘”Don’t worry,” he says,’ laughed Moomintroll, thought it really wasn’t very funny at all. ““Don’t worry,” my, my. Happy Spring, indeed.’

In hindsight, it may have been wiser to start from the beginning.


End file.
